The Beating

I got beat up the night before by some Mercedes kids with an anger i don't understand. Maybe i scare them. i gave a good accounting of myself, Hit one with a satisfying crunch, Not much older than my son Where ever he is. i finally accepted my plight And curled up in a ball While the avenger's kicks Rain down on me in a torrent. Why are they so angry? Did they wake up this morning On fine linen sheets and Decide to hurt someting? They must have parents Who coddle them some. Parents who each day hope Little Johnny comes to and live life. But little Johnny`s tired Of the bullshit and drama that Trap him in an existence of rules. Well, little Johnny has no rules. I feel them tiring some, The blows are subsiding As they snicker and spit At me now, all bloodied and bruised. What will they feel tomorrow? Will they think back and shudder Or will they go on their merry Way and find another lost soul. What will they feel years from now when they have Sons of their own to rule over? Will they cry? It`s over now as they run down The street yelling their victory over Their victim and feel accomplished. In this life, everyone takes a beating.